


Through Pain Comes Joy

by BlackVelvet42



Series: For Her [4]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: BDSM, Blindfolds, Bondage, Breathplay, Consensual Kink, D/s, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Mild Painplay, Mind Control, Negotiations, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, pleasure delay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-27 22:19:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12591768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVelvet42/pseuds/BlackVelvet42
Summary: "From the beginning, their relationship had moved along a path she had defined, revolving around her desires and impulses, which he had merely followed. The least he deserved was a chance to forge their togetherness into something that better fulfilled his needs."





	1. The Virtue Of Patience

**Author's Note:**

> My utmost respect and deepest gratitude to Helen8462 for beta - the gentle foreplay, the coarse words and rough handling, and taking me all the way to the finish;-p
> 
> Sequel to "For Her", "No Price Too High", and "Like Sand Through The Fingers".

She taps her fingers against the armrest of her command chair, trying hard to concentrate on the task at hand, but her thoughts are insistently drifting to more pressing matters.

Like the man by her side who, after everything, wants to date her.

Really. Date her.

What kind of a sick fuck is he?

But he made it absolutely clear. He would not take her to bed again until an appropriate time had passed and he felt he knew her better. Saying they had climbed this tree backward.

Oh, please. How could anyone be so prim and proper, so old-fashioned, in this century?

He didn't even bother to specify those parameters. What exactly did he think this decent courtship should include? How long would be enough to count as a sufficient dating period? What precisely did he want to know about her?

Just said he wanted to take it slow and get it right this time.

And that under no circumstances was she allowed to touch herself or attempt to find release by any means, which was beginning to feel like the main point in this charade. To punish her for something, everything.

But she didn't disagree. From the beginning, their relationship had moved along a path she had defined, revolving around her desires and impulses, which he had merely followed. The least he deserved was a chance to forge their togetherness into something that better fulfilled his needs.

Little did she know.

Because here she was, 42 days later, dripping with frustration during Alpha shift, trying to focus on the next negotiations for safe passage through another part of space they were unfamiliar with, and perhaps an exchange of supplies, if these people would be so kind.

Drawing strength from her fury to hold on to her dignity and self-respect.

It isn't the fault of the crinkle-faced alien on the viewscreen that she's not getting any and she knows her tone is far too sharp for a friendly first contact, but what she really wants to ask is, does this female representative think six weeks is reasonable for two people who have known each other for years and done more intimate things to each other than most do in a lifetime?

Is it?

No, it certainly isn't.

After her breakdown, they'd finally talked about all the things they should have, a long time ago.

Hesitating and fumbling at first, to find words for pain and loneliness she had brushed aside over the years and hoped would eventually be forgotten and vanish from her mind.

But once she started voicing these emotions, it turned out there were stacks of them, all piled on and around each other like a dense web, suffocating the life out of her.

His patience and her will peeled them all, layer by layer, and he had been right, it was purifying.

At some point she realized, rather embarrassed, that for days they'd mainly talked about her.

He said it was all right, they had all the time in the world, but she knew enough was enough. Dwelling on the past didn't really change anything, only reflecting on the present to strive for a better future did.

So, she asked about him; about his life, the joys and sorrows he'd been through, bit by bit coming closer to the subject she'd been burning to ask but was hardest of all.

What in the world did he see in her? Why was he still with her, after everything he'd witnessed and all the things she'd done?

He didn't seem to understand the question.

You mean everything that took place at the holodeck, he asked.

No, that wasn't quite what she meant, but close enough, and another important issue that was long overdue for discussion.

It was... interesting, he formulated with a forced smile, tugging at his ear in discomfort, and she paled.

Past tense. He wasn't going to continue doing those things to her.

But then he asked more. Why did she like the spanking and the choking, the biting and being held down? How did it make her feel? What did it mean to her? What else did she want? Was there something she wouldn't do?

His questions were precise, revealing what she'd already suspected, that he was well read into the subject, having dedicated a length of time to master the art.

It seemed like he genuinely wanted to know and his insistent curiosity made her squirm.

None of the negotiations in her previous relationships had ever been this explicit. And she wasn't even sure where he was heading with his inquiries.

Wavering whether she should, she finally asked if there was anything about it that he liked, anything at all he found arousing.

The way he stopped and stared at her, his eyes turning dark and dangerous, took her breath away.

Had she been so caught up in her own realm not to notice that it had been a kick for him as well?

He swallowed and took a few steps further away from her before he began.

The memories seemed to be burned into his mind as he poured them out, recalling with ease specific moments and scenes in detail.

He described the beauty of her curves as the lights and shadows danced on her skin. The sheer wonder of her trim and pliant body he was free to bend any which way he wanted. The sounds as he smacked her ass and she whimpered in response, the bright burn on her cheeks afterward. The ropes pressing into her skin, rendering her immobile and helpless for him. The feel of every cavity in her body he'd buried his length into. The certain pitch in her voice that told him she was about to come. The way her face distorted when she climaxed and the throaty cry of his name that so often passed her lips, echoing in his mind as a certainty that she was his. The pride and gratitude he felt being able to give her this pleasure she craved for.

And how it was absolutely vital for him to get to hold her in the end and tell her that he loved her.

Her head snapped up from the feverish haze she’d sunk into as she listened to his heated depiction.

Loved her?

It wasn't exactly news, but the words had never been voiced before and he let them slip out like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Lust was easier.

This intimacy, on the other hand, the way he came so close, demanding all of her with a persistent tenderness, was everything but.

It was daunting to feel this vulnerable every time he was near. And he expected so much from her, when she was still struggling to accept what he was offering and not even close to being comfortable or knowing how to return that affection.

The inner turmoil was probably written all over her face, because he stepped to her with a smile that was both understanding and unyielding, took her into his arms and pressed her against his solid chest.

His hands came to cup her face, thumbs stroking her cheekbones, and looking deep into her eyes he told her in length and detail, with his rich voice caressing her all over, how much he loved her for everything she was, everything she’d been through, and everything they would be together.

And as she stood there, eyes wide and glistening, paralyzed by the intensity of his devotion, he claimed her mouth with soft lips, nipping teeth, and the warm invasion of his silky tongue sliding into her mouth, twining together with hers.

Like the sweetest assurance that he would be there for her, waiting for the day when his unhindered words of love would be followed by an equal confession from her, without fear, without hesitation.

He’d caught her unguarded, flooding her with fiery passion when her heart was raw and open, and while she was pressing closer to him, open-mouthed and trembling, aching to feel his skin against hers, she felt her tears falling down to their lips and melting there, salty and sweet, into a messy blend of conflicting emotions.

It had been the last time he kissed her like that.

Then they started the so-called dating.

A goddamn torment, that's what it was.


	2. Out Of The Darkness, Into The Light

The whole situation was absurd.

Negotiating the terms of their relationship on the safe, neutral grounds of her ready room, sitting apart on the couch like it was a formal meeting.

But right then, sipping her third coffee to suppress the headache forming due to this madness, she wasn’t amused.

“The holodeck is off-limits,” he stated, proceeding with the rules that were beginning to feel rather strict. “There are too many temptations that neither of us is equipped to resist.”

She couldn’t help the snort of laughter. He sure got that right.

“And no dinners at our quarters,” he continued. “Not yet, anyway.”

Why in the world did he have to make this so complicated?

“If you don’t mind, could you please tell me where did you plan us spending our time then,” she asked, keeping her tone light despite her weary annoyance, “on a ship this small designed for exploration and travel, with our crew just about everywhere?”

His smile was confident and teasing as he leaned closer to her and explained with a twinkle in his eyes that exploration was precisely what they were going to do.

Oh, my.

“And besides, the crew already knows so what would be the point in hiding?” he added as he got up, about to take his leave.

She stopped dead on her track.

“They know? What do you mean?”

His affirmations made little difference.

Convincing her required the flawless logic of a Vulcan and the thorough knowledge of the head of security. And, indeed, it turned out that the nature of their relationship hadn't been a secret to anyone for such a long time that by now the rumors were circling around totally different pairings.

For some reason, that revelation was quite an anticlimax.

Was the fact that the captain and the commander were intimate so insignificant that it didn’t generate at least one formal complaint? Not even one objection grumbled over a beer at Sandrine’s?

“So what?” she asked a few days later, knowing this was one retort she should stifle, but in the atmosphere of honesty and her own irritation, she let it blurt out. “Do you want to make it a public scene now, let everyone see you’re nailing the captain?”

Making sure his smile stayed behind his eyes, he stroked her hand gently.

“No, that's not what I meant. All I’m saying is that there’s no reason why we can’t have dinner together in the mess hall.”

And then he added a firmer note, that if they were going to continue their relationship, he would not do it hiding from the crew.

She had to blink and replay it in her head to make sure she heard him right.

An ultimatum. From him.

The power had definitely shifted. She just couldn’t pinpoint exactly when she’d given him this freedom to give her orders.

Dinner, fine. It sounded reasonable enough.

But it wasn't a strong start. For a man of his intelligence and imagination, a suggestion of a dinner in such plain, common surroundings was a disappointment, to say the least.

On top of it, when they entered the brightly lit, half-full room together later that evening, she felt utterly uneasy, exposed like never before in front of her crew.

Somehow, she felt suddenly stripped of her rank, her safety net, that had granted her privacy, solitude, and the illusion of being invulnerable, larger than life – only because she was with him.

It was just an ordinary meal and no one was staring, but she felt like all eyes and ears were on them anyway and in no time her mind was picturing all the rumors that would start spreading after that evening. Rumors and talk that would crumble her authority, slowly, but inevitably.

Neelix babbled in his usual manner and did his best with the cooking, probably sensing it wasn’t an everyday incidence for them, but the food was how it often was, a mixture of pleasant surprises and bites she wanted to spit out but was too polite to.

It didn’t take long for her to notice that nobody approached her or Chakotay like they usually did.

Not a single meal had ever passed without someone greeting her respectfully, mentioning some detail that called for attention, a worry they needed to express.

It was as if everyone had unanimously and without words agreed to give them privacy in a surrounding that naturally offered none.

And Chakotay, seeing her discomfort, took the lead of the conversation, steering it to neutral, easy topics that gradually helped her relax.

They talked about the need for dilithium and the possibility of mining at a nearby asteroid field; B'Elanna’s latest ideas to improve shield efficiency and a plan to implement the changes; how two crewmen on deck nine had got into a conflict that needed a mediator and how several people witnessed Tuvok raising his voice to be heard over their quarreling.

It made her smile a bit.

Everything else faded into the background as she listened to his soft voice. And going through the ship’s business in their usual comfortable work-oriented manner, she eventually forgot it was supposed to be a date in the first place.

But it also made her forget about all the people around them and stop the useless ruminating about what they might be thinking about the command team coming out as a couple, and whether they would still respect her and her captaincy even if she did reveal to be only human, with a need for companionship like everyone else.

At some point, she realized this change in her mood and demeanor, and after her initial surprise, she regarded him for a long time, silently giving him credit for a well-played first move.

It never seized to impress her how thoroughly he appeared to know her, his accuracy in knowing which strings to pull, and for a moment she pondered the possibility that he was maneuvering her in more ways than this one.

Then he took her hand into his under the table and she flinched, opening her mouth to remark about touching and showing affection in public when she felt him quickly wrap something around her wrist.

A leather cord, coiled over three times and completed with a knot. Hidden inside her sleeve from curious eyes, but digging into her skin with a delicious pressure.

And despite the audacity, the arrogance of his act and the horrible fact that someone might have noticed, she could not prevent the imminent response of her body.

Her pulse rocketing. A faint blush rising to her face. The desire pooling between her thighs.

She knew she should rip the cord off, remind him of protocol and plain decency, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. He’d been discreet enough, it was still their secret, and she reveled in it.

They stayed for a while longer, finished the main course, had some dessert, talked about something.

But once her wrist was tied, it was really all she could focus on.

The rest of the evening his gaze followed her even more intently than it usually did. Witnessing up close her obvious arousal, how her concentration wavered and the flow of her conversation faltered, how her breathing went shallow and erratic, and how she kept moving about in her chair.

Bathing in the sweet anticipation of his touch, later. Wondering if this would be the night they would hold each other until the early hours and wake up together, only to start all over again.

But when he escorted her back to her quarters, he didn't even kiss her.

It was a long, sleepless night spent tossing and turning in heat and a growing frustration.

"Do you intend to make me beg for it?" she demanded to know as she marched to his quarters first thing in the morning.

His surprise of her unexpected early visit turned to a full-dimpled smile that lit the whole room.

"No, not really. But I don't mind if you do."

Eyes narrow and lips pursed, she stepped up to him.

"You'll never see the day."

His smile widened as he scanned up and down her petite figure boiling with barely repressed fury.

"That sounds like a dare to me, Captain," he murmured softly.

"Anytime, Commander. Anytime," she hissed at his face.

She never got to ask what the winner would gain, because she stormed out as quickly as she had entered, cursing under her breath as soon as she was alone in the lift.

What was it about him that made it impossible for her to keep her cool and her mouth shut?

But as she closed her eyes and let her head drop back against the wall, feeling her composure falling back to place again with a few deep breaths, she knew exactly why.

She wasn’t in control of the situation and she hated it.

With every beat of her heart, she hated the uncertainty, the helplessness, and the creeping fear that she might very well end up doing what she declared she’d never do.

Beg.


	3. Taming A Hurricane

"The Jefferies tubes, really? People actually come here?" she whispered, taking a last look down the empty, quiet corridor before climbing in.

"Apparently, they’re widely considered to be the best make-out spot on board," he explained, holding down the laughter bubbling in his chest and hurrying to close the latch behind them. "We're not the only ones with the issue of having to find somewhere private."

For a moment she thought about reminding him that, unlike most of the crew who had to share their rooms, the commanding officers did have the luxury of private quarters. It was only because of his stubborn chastity they weren't using either one of them and were instead going through a lot of trouble and inconvenience finding alternatives.

"Tom also mentioned that the most popular conduits are near the warp core. Something to do with the pulsing," he added with a hearty laugh, not having to keep his voice down anymore.

She was glad he didn't see the involuntary flinch passing over her features hearing Tom’s name.

"Nice to know everyone is feeling at home," she muttered dryly. "So, tell me, where are we heading and what are we doing on a date in a maintenance tunnel? Some repairs, maybe, now that we’re here?"

Crawling ahead of him, she didn't see his expression, but it was easy to guess he had a good time keeping her clueless. Probably staring at her ass, too.

"Behind the corner will be fine. You'll see, Kathryn."

If the dinner at the mess hall had been awkward and uncomfortable, and the following occasional afternoon coffee in her ready room a little too formal, then this was just strange. Sneaking in the Jefferies tubes like a couple of teenagers.

Still, she had to admit, there was a certain excitement and giddy fun in allowing him to take her on this bizarre adventure.

Then she turned around and saw the rope he was holding and her jaw dropped.

"You're not seriously suggesting I let you tie me up in here?"

What was he even thinking? The idea was reckless, juvenile, and absolutely out of the question.

But if so, why was her heart suddenly racing and her palms moist?

"We're surrounded by force fields at a reasonable distance. Nobody's coming without warning," he reassured her. "And the rope is specially made. It’ll dissolve in three seconds if necessary."

Well, of course it would. He was safe in a way that begged to redefine the word.

And as he began pulling off her jacket with sure hands that met no resistance from her, she couldn’t deny she was thrilled.

Thrilled about how soon he was ready to discard the ridiculous celibacy and willing to dive into this mindless moment of passion with her. And despite the fact that it wasn’t wise or rational, at this point, she was ripe and ready to take whatever he wanted to give her.

She helped him with her pants, delighting in the familiarity of his hands sliding down her thighs and the ease with which he helped himself to her body.

There was the slightest discord at the edge of her mind, that this straightforward action wasn’t like him. But the thought was abandoned the moment his fingers grazed her bare back as he pulled the turtleneck over her head, unleashing a memory imprinted deep in her core, of the unlimited pleasures they were capable of creating together.

She reached to curl her arms around him and press her lips against his, but he gripped her wrists and kept her away from him.

"No. That's not what we're here for."

Aroused and confused, she was about to ask what the hell this could possibly be about, but the question died in her throat when she saw him pull a blindfold from his pocket, holding it out for her approval.

Before her sight was robbed, she got one last glance at his face. His eyes were heated, his expression resolute, but his intentions were impossible to read.

Once the darkness enveloped her, all her other senses amplified and she shivered, welcoming the surrender to a world of primal instincts.

Through the wild pounding in her chest, she could hear him moving in closer, and all around them was the languid pulse of the heart of Voyager.

On her skin, she felt the warm, still air and pearls of sweat forming all over her with excitement.

Every inhale carried the musky scent of her own arousal mixed with the sweet familiar spiciness of him.

And when he tied her wrists together against her chest and began coiling the rope around her body, every nerve ending in her was alight and screaming for contact.

But it had also always made her a little nervous, to give someone control over her like this. And now, being in a very questionable position if they somehow were to get caught, the tension was multiplied.

"Do you want me to stop? Is this still okay?"

His voice, a simple question, and the possibility to choose relaxed her instantly. The knowledge that he was perfectly tuned to her every emotion, even the ones she kept hidden, made it possible to let go and surrender to a passion she had longed for.

Her enthusiastic nodding seemed to be an adequate answer and she heard the smile in his words as he proceeded with his task.

"I need you to speak to me, Kathryn. Tell me how this makes you feel. Why do you like it?"

His tone was thoughtful, genuinely inquiring, and she struggled to answer. But what he was asking was impossible, to form coherence out of the chaos of her mind when her body was throbbing with need.

If only he wasn’t so damn good at what he did, but through plenty of practice, he knew exactly how she liked to be bound.

With moves rough enough to say he meant it and the ropes tight enough to take away her will.

His skill combined with the poorly ventilated, warm air and her mounting desire, her breathing was soon becoming laborious, and he paused again with worry in his voice.

"Are you able to breathe? Please, you need to say something."

She took in another shivering breath.

"Yes, Chakotay, everything's all right. It’s just… overwhelming. Go on, please, and I’ll try to explain."

With gentle care, he laid her down on her back on the metal grid floor and she lifted her hips to allow him to continue, wrapping the rope round after round, closing her into a tight cocoon.

When he was done, she felt like weeping.

God, how she’d missed this.

The amazing sensation of being grounded and constricted, every heartbeat and thought focused on the cage around her, holding her by an external force, something stronger than she was. Calming her, soothing her, taking away everything else, allowing her to drift into a state of consciousness where only now existed.

She tried to put her feelings into words, this inner storm relented to tranquility. She wanted him to know exactly what bondage meant to her, but her description came out muddled, fragmented.

Yet it sounded like he understood, and when he uttered his approval and appreciation for clarifying, she grinned in relief of being able to meet his expectations.

Now, they could move on to more important matters.

The seconds stretched into an eternity, in a darkness deprived of sensations because he offered none, waiting for his plan to unfold and bring forth the intense pleasure that always followed whenever she was bound.

Power willingly relinquished to rough handling and coarse words. Skin branded by strikes of pain. Pleasure built and denied, over and over again, rippling on the edge only to fade away undelivered. Screams and tears and sweat blending together into an endless stream of passion, until the end would come with a blazing orgasm ripping apart time and space, leaving inside the warm pulsing bliss of life.

Her body remembered the ecstasy and every inch of her ached for it.

But still, he made no move to touch her and finally, she realized that he wasn’t going to. That he had never intended to.

Humiliation hit her with full force.

Because there she was, half-naked and tied up, exposed and helpless with her arousal and dark desires he didn’t share with her, quivering with need, but at his mercy, incapable of achieving on her own what she craved for, but with no means to escape from a delight turned into a self-imposed hell.

Bitter tears and burning shame rushed over her face, her throat tightening and stomach knotting, fighting the dizziness threatening to take her, as she was struggling against the ropes that would not yield.

Just as fast, his hands were on her shoulders, his lips whispering close to her ear.

"Shh, it's all right. Three seconds, remember? I don't want to do anything that hurts you. Do you want me to release you?"

Through the fierce trembling and desperate gasps of air, a thought emerged. One she had never considered before.

She had never been under his control before. Not really.

Everything he'd done to her had always been by her demand, by her decision. He had merely obeyed, following a script she had written.

And the new emotion that slowly swelled inside her, after she had pushed away the panic, anger, and indignity, had very little to do with lust, but all the more with acceptance and trust.

Taking deep breaths, drawing strength from both within and from his presence, she strived to quiet the compulsive need to flee.

Her words came out shaky and weak, but she meant each one of them.

"No. I’ll be fine. But I think… I need you to touch me."

Not a word was spoken after that.

She felt his fingers threading slowly through her hair, stroking gently the side of her face and her neck, tracing the ropes around her, over her breasts and the curve of her waist, all the way down to her ankles and up again in a manner that was dominating and owning, but not arousing.

In her dark cage, she drank in his closeness and his soothing caresses, listened to his steady breathing and her own fluttering pulse eventually calming down along with her need, and a feeling of total submission spread throughout her, unfamiliar and strange, a path unexplored.

In that moment, she was not the captain, she was not in control.

Not of her body or her pleasure, not her mind or her emotions.

She was only - his.


	4. Pain Like Pleasure Is A Passion Of The Soul

The warm, moist air and the overwhelming scent of exotic plants greeted them as they entered the hydroponics bay. Taking in a lungful, she already felt more relaxed.

The room wasn't much to look at, just a regular cargo bay. But letting her gaze sweep over the medley of colors mixed with lush green, instead of the usual endless stream of data, was soothing in a way she’d forgotten and she was thankful he’d suggested coming there.

"Kes has done a wonderful job," he remarked, following her as she strolled between the shelves.

"She really has,” she said, inhaling the scent of a flower in full bloom. “You know, Kes had a plan for a real winter garden; a stone path winding among ever-blooming perennials, herbs, and some cherry-like trees, leading to a wooden bench by a small pond."

She threw a meaningful glance at him over her shoulder. "Now that would’ve been a nice place to take a girl on a date."

But her playful banter echoed only an absent half-smile from him and she fell silent.

Lately, he'd been awfully quiet and distracted.

They’d started having occasional breakfasts at his quarters and during those cozy, peaceful moments she began to see their togetherness in a new light.

Being with him was pleasant in a way that reminded her of home, of family, and it was easy to imagine that their relationship could be like that, for the rest of their lives.

But every so often, she caught him staring into nothing, or at her when he thought she didn’t notice, with an expression she couldn’t read, and if she asked about it, he simply brushed it off with vague answers.

Clearly, something was bothering him and she only hoped it wouldn't take him long until he felt comfortable enough to share his thoughts with her.

"This place has its perks," he said, unaffected by her teasing.

Idly, he moved on until he stepped to a peculiar looking plant with long tendrils, pointed petals, and thorns the size of his thumb.

She watched his fingers trail carelessly along the sharp spikes and suddenly the hair was standing up on the back of her neck, a chill running down her spine.

Holding her breath, she had no idea what was coming, but in a flash, she knew there was a specific reason why he brought her there and why he was standing next to that particular plant.

The look on his face was impenetrable as he turned to her, grabbed her wrist and swung her around in no way kind, holding her prisoner with her back against his chest.

It took so little from him to arouse her these days. The mere feel of being held tight against his body and the harsh grip he had on her sent her heart racing and made knees weak.

And the way he yanked up the sleeve of her jacket, she wished he'd just rip the whole uniform off.

Then she felt the sharp sting of the thorn pressing on her bare wrist and she tensed.

"Do you like that, Kathryn?" he asked with a tone hard and demanding.

It wasn't like him to inflict pain without her asking for it, but even though there was something thoroughly strange in the scene, she welcomed his intense closeness and enjoyed the excited quiver running through her.

Not trusting her voice, she only nodded.

"I don't understand it," he blurted, breathing heavily against her neck. "Make me understand, Kathryn. Why do you like the pain?"

Mesmerized, she followed the thorn scratching her delicate skin, leaving behind a trail of red pearls and a burn that took her breath away.

"Is it because you think I'm this man; dangerous, violent? Do you think I want to hurt you? Do you think I enjoy it?" His questions were like rapid-fire and heated with confusion, but her attention was glued to the stinging wound on her wrist, resonating across her body in a completely different tune.

"Is it ... a death wish, Kathryn?" The last words were spat out in anger infused with fear and his urgency finally pulled her out of the spell.

His grip on her was convulsive like he was trying to keep from ripping the answers from her, but with a struggle, she managed to turn around, puzzled by his train of thought.

"No, Chakotay, you’ve got it all wrong. That's not it at all."

Was that how he'd felt all this time? Had she not already explained what the pain meant to her? Why would he think she wanted to die?

Then she caught his eyes, wild and desperate, and knew exactly what he was thinking about.

A time so long ago when her heart did stop beating, when she almost did die, due to a poorly planned bondage.

They’d never talked about the incidence. It was a shared secret, readily swept away from conscious thought, too painful, too outrageous to be brought out in the open again.

But now, the memory was back, staring right at her and she had to consider what that night must've been like for him.

Pleasuring her with a roughness she craved for, reaching his peak only to come down from his high to see her lifeless body, forced to make the decision to beam them to sickbay and expose something so intimate, to seek help with a faint hope that the consequence of her mindless request could somehow be reversed.

From this point of view, his question about a death wish wasn't so far-fetched.

She calculated her next words carefully. He deserved an honest explanation, one he could comprehend and accept.

"I've always enjoyed the pain, Chakotay. Always. That has nothing to do with you."

She paused and weighed his tolerance to hear the simple truth.

"When it's in the right context, within certain limits, the pain intensifies the pleasure. You know this. The sensations cause a rush that's beyond description. And I like it."

He was listening intently, hanging on her every word, and she continued.

"But it's not just that. It's you, the fact that I'd trust you with my life, the certainty that you would never truly harm me, and the knowledge that you care for me so much you would do all that I ask for, keeping your own need under control, making sure everything stays safe and letting me selfishly sink into a feeling so intense that it consumes me whole."

There was no change on his face.

"Do you understand what I'm saying, Chakotay?"

He was trying, she could see, but his eyes were glistening and he was shaking his head, visibly filled with more questions he couldn't formulate because of the turbulence inside, so she kept talking.

"What happened in the holodeck, the things I told you to do in the end, that was something else entirely," she began, and the heart-breaking shift in his expression, how his gaze darted to her, pleading her to go on, told her this was exactly what he needed to hear.

"That was fear. Self-hatred. Depression. And yes, probably some kind of indifference to living, too."

Tears escaped from beneath his dark lashes and she reached out to brush them away, her chest aching over her own thoughtlessness and cruelty.

"I'm so, so sorry, Chakotay, I wish with all my heart I had never asked you that."

Before she even finished, she found herself crushed against his chest, engulfed in his embrace.

He took her down to the floor with him, his guilt and despair shattered to pieces by her words, his relief rushing over him in ragged breaths and sobs shaking them both.

She’d never seen him like that.

Broken.

It was too easy to forget there was a gentle soul hidden beneath his strength. A kind, compassionate man who had vulnerabilities and a breaking point like everyone else. A beautiful man who needed so much more than she’d ever given him.

Breathing each other and the life they shared, they stayed twined together for a long while.

She ran her fingers slowly through his hair, kissed his forehead and every tear left on his cheeks, soothing and healing him back to strength, and the words started flowing from her lips without effort.

How much she loved him.

How she had waited for this love her whole life.

How this fragile feeling had grown from the first day they’d met, in silence, somewhere deep within. At times, nearly smothered under a more carnal emotion, but always thriving, bit by bit weaving itself into the core of her existence until the weak flutter had become something powerful and absolute, ready to surface and bloom. Forged into a love strong enough to weather any storm ahead and to flourish, resilient and unwavering, by his side until the end of their days.


	5. What You Leave Behind

 

"You've been very quiet this evening, Kathryn," Chakotay said softly, startling her out of her thoughts.

The candlelight flickered on his features and his eyes held the familiar tenderness she was gradually beginning to accept as hers.

How long had she been pushing the food around on her plate? Did she miss something he said?

She had long awaited the night that Chakotay would finally invite her to dinner at his quarters.

The lights were dimmed and the candles lit, the deep red wine poured into crystal glasses and the heavenly aroma of rich, spicy food filled the air. Everything was beautiful and perfect - except the unease within her.

Why he had decided to take this step forward now, she didn't know, but she'd become accustomed to the fact that, in this matter, she wasn't in command anymore.

He’d explained that he wanted to take the longer, traditional route, let their passion grow into something deeper as they explored other ways to be together and though she didn’t quite understand why, she gave in.

Maybe this was his way to strengthen their relationship and if this was how he wanted to proceed, she could live with it. 

Besides, being in charge all the time was exhausting and he did have the sweetest ways to pamper her.

But now her mind was somewhere else entirely and it was so unfair to both of them.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently with his full, irresistible smile that always made her warm inside.

"I'm so sorry, Chakotay. I can't seem to get something out of my mind," she sighed, drifting away again.

After a moment, he pushed his chair back and gathered their plates, and she watched him thinking like she did almost every day, how grateful she was to have him in her life.

Taking her hand, he steered her to the couch.

"I'm going to pour us some more wine. Maybe then you'll tell me what’s bothering you."

She sank back against the cushions and stared at the stars passing outside the window, taking the short pause to arrange her mixed feelings.

When he extended her glass, she muttered almost to herself, "I need to apologize to Tom."

There was only a slight hesitancy in his moves.

"I had no right to do what I did," she said more firmly.

Their eyes met briefly as he sat down beside her and although he didn't say anything, she knew he agreed.

Staying silent was a kind thing to do. She had reprimanded herself enough of that shameful encounter, the rock bottom on a path of blind selfishness and destructive manipulation.

"I think he understood the situation better than we believe. He’s quite perceptive," Chakotay remarked and she considered it.

He was probably right, Tom would be like that.

"But still. And he's acted so maturely. More than I deserve."

He reached out to touch her arm. "Kathryn, don’t. You promised to value yourself more."

The silence stretched on as they enjoyed the wine and she turned back to her contemplation, but the moment was comfortable all the same.

Eventually, she came to a conclusion and put her glass down with a decisive clink.

"I need to go to him now. I just wish I knew what to say."

Like he had expected the outcome, he leaned back on the couch and gave her a reassuring smile.

"You'll come up with the right words. You always do."

 

***

 

The captain marching down the corridors of deck 4 wasn’t an everyday sight. She knew it and the crewmen passing by knew it.

The signs were subtle, but definitely there; minor delays in greeting, slightly longer looks than usual, brows rising, steps staggering.

By the time she reached her destination, her palms were sweaty and her heart was pounding hard.

Why was she this nervous?

After all, this was her ship and if she needed to address her helmsman at his quarters, even though it was a little late, she should not feel the need to find justification for her actions.

During the few seconds she had to wait after the chime, she hoped he wouldn’t be there and she could postpone the discussion for a few days.

Then he attended the door, full of surprise, and she braced herself.

"Captain! What are you... Did I...?" he stuttered, but soon enough, his questions faded to an intuitive understanding that made him shut his mouth.

"May I come in?" she asked, keeping her chin up and shoulders straight, boosting her confidence in a situation that was nothing less than a disaster waiting to happen.

He stepped aside to grant her a respectful entrance, but to her, it was like walking into her trial and conviction.

She had never felt so small in her life.

Who was she trying to fool?

It wasn't going to be a conversation between captain and lieutenant. It was going to be something much more personal.

She found her attention shifting across the room, from the used socks next to his bed to the glaring poster of a 20th century Earth movie on the wall, all the while trying to come up with the correct way to approach the awkward subject.

"How have you been?" he asked after a short wait and her head snapped up.

She was supposed to be asking him that.

No answer adequate enough came to mind and instead, she started pacing the room.

"Captain, are you all right?" he tried again, this time with genuine worry creeping into his voice and he moved closer, touching her shoulder lightly and pausing her restless steps.

"I'm not here as your captain, Tom," she said in a sharper tone than she intended and he dropped his hand.

She started searching for the right words again, thoroughly frustrated and angry at herself.

What a mess.

He waited patiently, knowing her well enough to realize that she would not want help in finding a way out of this hole she had dug herself into.

"What I did was wrong, Tom," she finally managed and looked up only to wish she hadn’t.

His eyes were blue like the summer sky and open to the depths of his soul, and in a heartbeat, she felt a fierce blush spreading all over her face and up to her ears as she remembered exactly what she was apologizing for.

It seemed that the memories of that thoughtless, frenzied night were replaying in his mind as well and his lips parted to his deepened breathing.

He was standing so close to her, much too close for a proper conversation, and the air was suddenly charged hot and thick with a shared knowledge of intimate secrets, dangerous and forbidden, but cherished none the less.

It was impossible to remember any of the rational, levelheaded, captainly things she had planned to say and all that came out was the plain truth in a voice so husky it only served to heighten the tension between them.

"I feel so guilty for what I did," she admitted, "and I don't know how to even begin to make it right, except to say I'm sorry and that doesn’t cover the magnitude of my mistake, not even a fraction of it."

He regarded her awhile, compassion softening his features with an intensity that was almost too much to bear. Then he reached out and took her hand into his.

She watched his fingers move on her skin, sweet and tentative, caressing her in a way they both knew he shouldn't, but she didn’t stop him. She was so tired of fighting this battle long lost, to try to keep him at a distance when he was already an undeniable part of her.

"Are you happy, Kathryn?" he asked, searching her eyes to reveal the truth in case her lips would spill the usual lie.

The question was unexpected and the turn of the conversation far too personal, but considering all they had been through, maybe he had every right to ask.

"Yes, I guess I am. Now."

"Then please, believe me, everything is all right. You can leave this behind." He squeezed her hand in affirmation. "I won't forget any of it, if you don't mind, but I hope you will stop worrying."

His face was so honest, his words sincere, and the ache she'd been carrying since that day stirred up in her chest all over again.

It was as close to an absolution as she would accept and she thanked him, making a move to leave, but he didn't release his hold on her yet.

"Before you go, there's something I'd like to do, if I may," he said, lingering close to her. His expression was hesitant, but somehow pressing and it wasn’t difficult to guess what he wanted.

Or rather, what he needed, to let go.

He took her gently by her chin, tilted her head to angle with his, and ran his thumb along the high curve of her cheek with an affectionate, adoring touch. His eyes were drinking in every inch of her and when he leaned in to kiss her, she closed her lids to conceal the burn behind them.

Breathing her scent deep into his lungs, he pressed his lips against hers, light and chaste, and opened his mouth just enough to taste her in a gesture that was both tender and passionate, a first and a last twined into one fleeting moment.

Walking back to her quarters, her heart was no less heavy than when she had left.

She didn't deserve him. She didn't deserve any of them.

But she would do her damn best to earn each and every one of them.


	6. Devil’s Playground

As soon as they reached the hilltop and the view opened before them, she gasped in awe, eyes wide in surprise.

"Oh, Chakotay, it's perfection!"

Natural hot springs, dozens of them in different shapes and sizes, sprinkled along the gentle slopes descending towards the glittering ocean.

Shore leaves planet-side were usually nice, but this, this was her personal paradise brought into existence.

"Our gracious hosts recommended a few sights and this one sounded like a place you might like,” he said, pleased by her obvious approval. “The locals come here only after sunset, so we should be alone."

He was too good to be true. And he was spoiling her, absolutely and thoroughly.

The change in her heart had been gradual and stealthy, but one morning she had woken up and realized her life had become obscenely pleasant. Against all of her preconceptions, their relationship had become something naturally woven into their duties and roles as commanding officers.

Even the dread she had once felt at the possibility of losing him had lost its sharpest edge after the first time Chakotay was injured on an away-mission.

For two days, he had laid unconscious in sickbay while the Doctor performed the miracles of modern medicine, and for two days, she was caught in the riptides of uncertainty, fear, regret, and sorrow.

But once she was in the warmth of his arms again, listening to his steady heartbeat, she calmed down with a new perspective.

Life would always be violent and unpredictable in the Delta Quadrant. Death would always be one step away for everyone. Those facts she could not change. But she could make the most of each moment she was given with him.

Their priorities remained unaltered. Their first responsibility was to the crew and their primary goal would always be to get them home. Whatever remained, though, was a free realm for their togetherness.

After everything, it was somewhat shocking to notice that the unique situation of the command team being a couple appeared to be a stable win-win for everyone and that she was actually a better captain now, merely because she was happy.

She was a little less edgy and impulsive, and a little more calm and balanced. Her mind was clearer, focused on her main objective. The risks she took were more calculated and her ruthlessness to anyone threatening Voyager held deadly preciseness like never before.

How strange. She had never considered the prospect that being with him would benefit the whole ship.

They’d also decided to keep their relationship private, even though it wasn’t a secret to anyone, but retaining their roles unambiguous in front of the crew felt important. She, of course, had breached the rule several times, flirting with him on the bridge or at her ready room. Then again, she had always enjoyed that.

But right now, she needed to get into one of those hot tubs nature had created and she wondered how much clothes she would have to leave on not to insult a possible passerby.

"You're supposed to go in naked. It's a local custom," he instructed, like he was reading her thoughts, grinning full-dimples and she raised a brow.

"I bet it is," she purred and stepped closer, pressing her hips against his and caressing his broad chest. "And I trust you'll be joining me?"

He shook his head.

"We both know where that would lead, Kathryn. Not yet. But you go on and enjoy."

Oh well, his loss.

She might have let him have his peace and simply relax by herself, soaking in the numerous baths which steamed in the slightly chilly air.

She might have, if only she hadn't caught the sight of his jaw clenching as she pulled off her jacket, and his fists clamping tightly behind his back as she reached for her pants. She didn't really need the final proof of his eyes skittering everywhere else but the first glimpses of her skin.

And what began as a hurried removal of her uniform, turned into a slow dance of seduction.

Keeping her back to him, she pulled the turtleneck over her head, exaggerating each move, and peeled off her bra, glancing over her shoulder as she started taking the pins from her hair.

"You sure you're not coming with me?"

She let her hair cascade over her bare back in a way she had learned he found irresistible. Swaying her hips, she pushed her pants down and bent over to remove them, knowing very well the view would drive him wild.

His sharp intake of breath was audible and it crossed her mind that he might very well grab her and take her then and there.

But when she got up and looked behind her, he'd sat down on a rock nearby and was staring intently at the sea. He was trying to look casual but his whole body was tense and his hands were conveniently covering the front of his pants.

She snickered. He was so easy.

Dipping her feet into the steaming water made her forget about him for a moment and moan spontaneously.

"Oh god, this is divine," she sighed to herself, slowly lowering her body into the warmth.

His attention was back on her, not missing a second of her rapturous first contact with her newfound heaven, looking like he was on the edge of his control. 

She gave him a crooked, self-assured smile and ran her fingers slowly through her hair, letting the auburn tresses spill over her shoulders.

"Tell me, Chakotay, what are you thinking right now, hmm?"

She raised just enough to show the top of her breasts above the water.

"Are you thinking about all the work waiting for us when we get back? Appreciating how smoothly we work together to solve every challenge we encounter?"

She lifted her leg up in the air, admiring the beautiful curve of her own calf and the droplets of water sparkling in the sun.

"Or maybe you're overwhelmed with deep gratitude for our friendship, our discussions, and this wonderful chance to spend time together away from duty?"

She arched backward over the edge of the spring, stretching languidly, pushing her breasts up towards the sky, and letting her arms drop behind her head.

"Or are you staring at my body, remembering the softness and the taste of my skin, aching to feel how ready I am for you? Estimating how many seconds it would take for you to rip your clothes off and come here, part my legs and push inside me?"

"Kathryn..." His voice was a tormented, choked plea and she almost felt sorry for him.

She knew very well she was being the devil, but the opportunity was too good to resist. The whole situation was his doing so why shouldn't he suffer for it?

During the past weeks, they had covered every conceivable matter of importance and she could not come up with a single reason why they should continue this abstinence.

Maybe he liked to delay the pleasure. Maybe he really did want to make her beg.

If so, he had no idea who he was up against.

She let her hand move down from her throat, cupping her breast in passing and giving the hard nipple a delicious pinch before sliding between her thighs. The slickness waiting there made her shiver in delight and the first swirl on the sensitive flesh shot an arrow of pleasure through her.

It had been such a long time and she wouldn't need much, she'd just have to...

"Kathryn, stop."

His sharp order made her reluctantly pull her hand away.

He was right. They had agreed not to seek release. And she knew it would be worth the wait.

But she'd given no promise not to tease him with everything she had.

Her smile was downright evil as she brought her fingers to her lips, drawing her tongue over the taste of her own arousal and humming in contentment.

It was the final straw for him and he darted up, escaping with what was left of his self-restraint, far away to the shades of the forest where he stayed for the rest of their three hours.

She sank beneath the water, grinning utterly pleased with herself.

This chaste dating would be over in no time.


	7. Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall

After the shore leave, something changed.

In retrospect, she should’ve noticed the warning signs sooner, but at the time her focus was elsewhere, on a new star system they were approaching and a new species they were attempting to establish contact with, turning the days suddenly hectic for everyone.

First, they had to cancel a few dinners to work double shifts and get some sleep before the next day.

Then, she actually forgot a date, but he said she shouldn’t worry about it.

When they eventually did make time for a hasty breakfast together, he seemed preoccupied, leaving her to do most of the talking.

And her light-hearted flirting, meant to strengthen their bond in the midst of all the hustle, didn’t evoke the usual affectionate banter from him.

Why in the world that specific detail didn’t raise an immediate red alert in her head, made her blush a few days later. Slumped into bed, exhausted, she allowed a series of random, disturbing thoughts to flow through her mind.

She couldn’t deny it. The frail harmony they had managed to build was faltering and if broken, she feared they might not get another chance.

Unable to sleep, she got up and ordered a coffee. Staring at the ancient stars passing outside the window, she finally took a close look at herself, their relationship, and the peculiar stalemate they had driven themselves into because he wasn’t talking and she wasn’t asking.

Maybe, in some ways, he was still the tall, dark stranger to her, alluring but distant, a wonderful mystery to be solved. And she was honest enough to admit he had served her selfish purposes best exactly like that. Near, but never too close.

An even more unpleasant conclusion was that she had never been very attentive to his needs.

Although the well-being of the crew was constantly on her mind and she would go to great lengths for their safety and happiness, for some reason, Chakotay was different.

From the beginning, she’d felt as if he didn’t need her, not like everyone else did. He gave the impression that he could take care of himself and others as well, that his broad shoulders could carry the weight of the world if necessary, and without much thought, she had presumed he would be her stable, dependable first officer, friend, and lover, always.

Now, she was beginning to suspect all those premises were faulty.

After these rather painful observations about her character, it wasn’t difficult to conclude these features - and how they still reflected on their togetherness - were probably at least part of what was bothering him.

As if her past flaws weren’t enough, ever since the shore leave, she had been teasing him on a daily basis, intentionally building up the sexual tension between them against his explicit wishes. And in doing so, she had provided him evidence that, like before, she would continue to put her own needs above his.

Her late-night introspection led to a sincere plan to back off, to be kind and understanding, and give him all the time he needed.

Instead of pressuring him, she would show him every day through her actions she was not the same person anymore, convince him she could be gentle, considerate, and patient, everything he deserved.

But how does a tiger get rid of her stripes?

Then the whole goddamn house of cards fell apart.

In the end, igniting the flames took only a minor mistake by Tom during routine operations and Chakotay, drawn tight as a string, lost it.

Before she knew what was happening, Chakotay was striding to the helm, raising his voice and berating him, taking out all his frustration and inner conflict on the one person who probably intuitively understood where the disproportionate reaction was springing from and, as such, was able to accept it with a peaceful heart.

She had never seen him lose his temper so easily.

As she watched the scene between the two men play in front of her, she knew the stalling and avoidance had dragged on too long and one way or the other, it would end here.

She stayed silent, trusting he would cool down on his own and when he did, she stood up.

"Commander, if I could speak to you in my ready room."

Without expecting an answer she marched ahead of him, swirled around in the middle of the room and waited, hands on hips, for the doors to close.

It wasn’t until later when she wondered what the hell happened again, that she recognized her mistake.

With those tiny signs of authority and dominance, she inadvertently veiled Kathryn behind the Captain and the conversation never had a chance to succeed.

"We have a problem, Chakotay."

He took one look at her posture and took his stance, back straight, chin up, standing in front of her like an officer being reprimanded.

"Captain?" he asked, his face blank and cold, avoiding eye contact, and she sighed.

"Please don't do that. Don’t pretend like we both don’t know what's wrong."

His eyes narrowed, but his focus stayed on the wall above her head.

"This is not working and we need to do something about it. Our relationship, or what it's lacking, is affecting our duties, and that's not acceptable."

He remained silent and she realized, more irritated by the second, he wasn't even going to acknowledge the issue, let alone try to find a mutual solution.

"Fine. We'll talk later," she said, defeated and disappointed that they still had such a long way to go to balance their relationship with their duties.

"Am I dismissed, Captain?"

He spat her rank out with defiant anger like a curse and, provoked by his unfairness, her patience ended right there.

"No, Commander. One more thing."

She circled around him and prolonged his wait, needlessly demonstrating her power over him.

"This is your problem, not mine. Solve it," she snapped at his face, walked to her desk and sat down behind it, taking the first PADD into her hands, not giving him another look.

"Now, you're dismissed."

As the doors swooshed shut, she leaned back and closed her eyes, letting the instant shame and regret wash over her.

Despite her own feelings, she should’ve been able to handle the situation far better.

She, too, still had a lot to learn, of how to be a captain as well as a lover to him.

Chakotay had his reasons. She just didn't know them yet and he wasn't ready to open up. But she was certain of what mattered the most.

He was trying to do what he thought was best, to build a solid ground for them, aiming for a future together.


	8. And The Truth Will Set You Free

She knew he'd come to her, sooner or later.

Apologetic. Ashamed, perhaps, for having lost his temper so badly. But ready to take the first steps to talk about whatever he felt was still left unsaid.

What she didn't anticipate was how quickly he'd show up at her door and the vigor with which he was ready to move forward.

Punching in her key code wasn’t unusual, she'd given him permission a long time ago.

The way he lingered at the entry, indecisive whether to proceed further in, was.

"I want you," he started, voice thick with emotion.

The implication of those three magical words shot straight to her core. Finally.

"I want all that you want," he continued.

Oh. Did he really mean what she thought he meant?

"You asked me once if there was anything at all about our time together in the holodeck that I found enjoyable," he said and swallowed hard. "I liked all of it, Kathryn."

His confession was in no way unclear, but she was distracted by his conflicting signals.

He was radiating lust and hope, but also hesitation and something resembling horror. Why?

She was about to ask him when he held up his hand for her to stay quiet and she let the question die away.

This moment was for him and him alone. Whatever he needed to say, she would be ready to hear it.

“I went through hell with you, Kathryn.”

Except this.

He stood frozen and spoke with a voice cold and flat, but his anger was seething just beneath the surface and she prepared herself for the worst.

“There were times I hated you with every breath I took. And I hated myself. And everything we were. It’s been… very difficult to reconcile that past with any kind of vision of a future together.”

For a moment, his words hung in the air like an ax, raised for the final blow to their relationship.

“Do you have any idea what it felt like, to love you so much, and feel you throw that love back in my face when every time I tried to express my affection you flinched?”

The pain was still written on every inch of him as he spoke and it gripped her chest to think she had done this to him.

“Not only that, but you asked me to hurt you, requesting something more outrageous every time, without any kind of warning or explanation why you would want those things. You left me completely in the dark, Kathryn, and that was simply cruel.”

His fists were clenched tight, knuckles white. Every word came with an effort like he was struggling not to say something worse, but to keep his words civil.

“Time after time, I tried to reach out to you, but you kept pushing me away, taking only what you needed. And I always thought the most insulting part was you assumed a purely physical relationship would be enough for me too, that I would settle for something so callous, so empty, when I had made it clear wanted all of you.”

As if some last invisible barrier was finally torn down, he was letting all his bitterness flow freely from deep within, and every word pierced through, accurate and true.

She wanted to object, to tell him she was not the same person anymore, but what right did she have to promise him anything?

“I thought about ending our arrangement so many times. But tell me, how was I supposed to leave, knowing you would’ve probably continued anyway, with a hologram and all the safety protocols turned off? You were, and always have been, reckless in a way that terrifies me.”

Realizing that his fury and desperation were threatening to overcome his sincere wish to make her understand, he paused to gather himself, running his fingers through his hair and turning away from her, breathing in deep.

“But, so help me, I did enjoy. On those rare moments when I felt I actually understood what was going on inside your stubborn head, my world quaked for what we were. You are addictive, Kathryn, I can’t help but love you and come back whenever you call.”

His voice trailed off in helpless surrender to something he could not fight and she only wanted to wrap her arms around him and say yet again how sorry she was for everything.

“No, you don’t have to apologize anymore. We’ve dealt with it and I know you were hurting. And I… I should’ve done something different as well. That’s in the past. What I came here to say was, if we’re going to continue this, things are going to have to change.”

If?

“Last time around, you made all the decisions. And you didn’t set any rules or limits for us. You expected me to follow your every whim without question and I ended up hurting you. I don't… That won’t happen ever again.”

He looked straight at her. These were his terms.

“From now on, we’re going to talk about everything. No more secrets. You’re going to tell me exactly what you want and warn me the moment we cross over too far into the wrong kind of pain, so I don’t have to be cautious all the time. And I’m going to tell you what I want and you’ll consider my wishes, whether you can accept them or not. I need to be able to relax and, this time, enjoy what we're doing. I want to share this passion with you, Kathryn, more than anything, but most of all, I need…"

Please, anything, all you have to do is name it.

"I need to know I can trust you."

And there it was, all her ugliness laid out in front of her, all the violence she had done to this man, the understanding of her choices and actions washing through her like ice cold water.

Maybe she would never truly understand how close she’d come to losing him. But he was still standing in the same room with her, talking to her, and that alone was a miracle. And she knew she would gladly spend the rest of her life ensuring he never regretted making that decision.

For a while, they only regarded each other across the dimly lit room and, perhaps for the very first time, saw each other without illusion.

As two incomplete souls, bound together by fate and a love that had endured conflict and misunderstanding, but was dawning out of darkness, holding a certainty that somewhere after this chaos, happiness would be found.

The haunted look in his eyes was gone and replaced with inner peace, warmth, and a stirring curiosity to explore what this newly found openness and honesty would bring forth.

Taking a steadying breath, he stepped towards her, the shadows of the room caressing his beautiful features.

"If we have an understanding, then, Kathryn..." His voice was deeper, stronger, and she moved closer to meet him halfway, tilting her head back to look at him, not touching him but waiting for him to finish.

"I want you on your knees. I want you to suck me like you mean it."

For the sheer surprise of such a gigantic shift and vulgarity, her mouth dropped open.

She couldn’t remember the last time he’d asked something for himself and she felt a smile, however inappropriate, spreading across her face.

An instant reply came to her mind, a teasing question about what if she didn't feel like submitting to him or that maybe he should make her, but she knew they weren’t quite there yet.

Someday they would be.

The 'yes' passing her lips was obedient and husky with a promise of heaven, and his fingers, as they twined in her hair and pushed her down on the floor, were trembling and suddenly very impatient.

But even as she had opened his pants and was closing her lips around him, listening to his breathing turn heavy with excitement, he actually tried to start a conversation.

"Before we do this, please tell me why do you..."

She didn't wait to hear the rest.

Without much elegance, she grabbed his hips and pulled him deep into her mouth, satisfied to hear his words cut short and turn to a string of curses.

His question was expected, but he really needed to stop talking and start moaning. This was not complicated and she'd tell him later everything he wanted to hear.

How she loved doing this to him.

Loved how hard he got at the mere thought of her, loved the first salty taste of his desire waiting for her. The silky skin and the pulsing veins against her tongue, the steel hardness filling her mouth, and her own saliva dripping down her chin as he entered her with long, deep strokes.

She could feel the remnants of his anger in his moves and she accepted it. He would regret it though, thinking he’d been too rough, and would ask her about it later.

In reality, he was mostly just as tender and considerate as he always was.

His thrusts were more cautious than forceful. His fingers gripping her hair often opened to softly stroke her head. And like always, he paused before he came, giving her a chance for a decision she didn't need.

She loved being able to take him to the end, to swallow each hot spurt with ease, aroused by his arousal, delighting in his ecstasy when he climaxed. Gladly giving him this moment of pure, selfish pleasure.

Because in that moment of his nearing peak, he did forget about her, pushing involuntarily past the point of what was comfortable for her, lost in his own ecstasy.

But hearing her name roll off his tongue like a prayer to the heavens as he shook with his release was a joy and a triumph, and she would not have it any other way.

And he was so grateful, sweet in his afterglow, ready to deliver her the moon and the stars if she asked for them.

This time, however, he only helped her up with a shaky hand, kissed her forehead, and begun a hasty retreat. Fastening his pants and catching for breath after an apparently thunderous orgasm, he backed away to the exit, muttering his thanks and his sorry and that he would make this up to her, soon.

What. The. Fuck.

At the back of her throat, an order was instantly forming, a roar so loud everyone would hear it at the other end the ship, for him to drag his sorry ass back into her quarters and to put his mouth where it belonged, between her thighs.

But before the shock had subsided enough for her to speak, he had disappeared into the corridor, taking support from the doorway on his way out.

As the doors closed between them, she was left alone, with an unbearable heat and red-hot wrath that would keep her awake until morning.


	9. Good Things Come

So, after 42 days of his twisted version of dating, there she was, dripping with frustration in the middle of Alpha shift. Trying to focus on diplomacy, but her thoughts drifting repeatedly to the night before.

How dare he treat her like that? Just leave, after everything?

She would not beg. Never. She was not so desperate.

She had never needed anyone to satisfy her before and she certainly didn’t need anyone now. She'd get off fine on her own.

Despite her rage at the man by her side who had the audacity to act like nothing out of the ordinary had happened, the shift dragged on and eventually came to an end with a profitable outcome.

Another first contact established, exchange of supplies negotiated, Voyager stocked and ready to proceed.

And she had decided to have the time of her life later, with the pleasant company of a glass of wine, a long hot bath, and her nimble fingers. Maybe something special from the replicator, too.

Preoccupied with finishing her reports in her ready room and planning how to make the evening even more enjoyable, she jolted out of her daydream when the door chimed.

Him. Hmph.

There were five minutes left of her shift and she wasn't going to waste another second more, at least not on him.

"What is it?" she snapped, continuing with her work, trusting he would pick up her signals and keep this short. Whatever he needed, she would take care of it tomorrow.

But if he did notice her annoyance, he ignored it and, instead, walked up behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders, warm and owning, and began kneading away her tension.

"I thought I'd help you unwind tonight," his husky voice whispered close to her ear.

Would this be a proper moment for a captain to tell her first officer to fuck off?

His gesture was too little, too late, and she shrugged his hands away, irritated that he even bothered to approach her with such a weak offer. He would have to do some serious crawling at her feet before she would accept his apology.

Her cold silence had no effect on him.

Steady and sure, his fingers curled around her neck and took a firm grip where the veins were pumping precious oxygen into her brain. Crouching over her smaller frame, he was delivering his message loud and clear.

"I wasn't asking, Kathryn. You have exactly thirty minutes to be ready in your quarters."

It was a shameless demonstration of his superior strength, on duty, in her ready room, absolutely against all the rules they had agreed upon, and despite the brutality of his act, or rather, precisely for that reason, she went from sub-zero to melting hot in a matter of seconds.

"If I find you anywhere else after that time I will drag you to bed through the corridors and I won’t care who’ll see us. We do want to avoid that, don’t we, Captain?"

The edges of her vision were beginning to blur, but her hands remained on the desk, the PADD trembling in her grip.

She managed a weak sound she hoped he would accept as a yes.

"Good. And I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t remember how lovely your mouth was and you threw me off balance. I wouldn’t have been much use to you then. Tonight, however, everything will be different.”

He released his hold on her throat and she gasped for air, her whole body flushed and throbbing.

“Now, I suggest you get up and move."

Thirty minutes was barely enough for her to take a shower and change her clothes, but it was more than enough to form the unnerving thought that she had, in fact, no idea what was about to happen.

In a blink of an eye, they had moved out of her comfort-zone where she was the captain of most everything and stepped into a kingdom with two rulers, and even though she had willingly agreed to this change in the dynamics of their relationship, it still made her uneasy for a reason she couldn’t quite identify.

But while her mind was uncertain, the rest of her was not.

After his rather savage display, every inch of her had been humming and tingling with luscious excitement.

And then he was there, at the entrance of her bedroom, and that flicker inside her turned into a blaze.

His eyes were deep, dark pools of passion, fixed on her, and his moves reminded her of a lion approaching his prey, pausing only to state his demands.

"You know the safewords; yellow to take it easier, red to stop. And I want you to use them both, repeatedly, throughout the night, whenever you feel the slightest need. Say you understand and agree."

Oh god, yes, she did.

Without further preamble, he pinned her against the wall and ripped off her dress with a single pull, the thin material tearing easily in his strong hands.

Feeling the shreds slide down her body and his hips grind almost painfully to hers, she shivered in anticipation, knowing with certainty that her wait was finally over.

Tonight, he would not hold back anymore.

Her mouth was assaulted with hungry, bruising kisses that filled her head with images of him taking her against the wall, fast and rough, and how she would cherish every second of that frenzy.

As he descended to her neck, leaving her lips moist and swollen, she clutched tight onto his shoulders and whispered with feverish, fractured words her devotion to this man who would be hers for all the days of her life.

“And I love you, Kathryn Janeway, so much it hurts,” he breathed against her skin, and she couldn’t help but smile at the intensity of his declaration.

Yes, she knew she wasn’t easy. And still, he loved her. All of her.

Spinning her around, he pulled her into a tight embrace, his mouth latching onto her neck, right on target at her pleasure point, sucking the tender skin and marking her with his brand. In response, she ground her ass against his groin, rubbing his erection and making him groan at the contact.

In a silent demand, she pushed her breasts into his palms and was rewarded with his fingers rolling over her nipples, pulling and pinching so hard she shrieked.

His soft laughter resonated down her spine, taunting her, teasing her senses.

Biting down on her shoulder and twisting her nipples again, he emphasized with each deliberate act that he would continue to play her any way he wanted.

Her eyes watered at the arrow of pain shooting through her, but the sound that left her throat was an unrestricted cry of ecstasy.

“I promise you, Kathryn, by tomorrow you will be sore in places you didn’t know existed,” he murmured and his warm baritone held the essence of dark honey, lingering sweetness mixed with danger. “You won’t be able to move across the bridge without remembering me on every step.”

With those words, he grabbed her hair and slammed her forwards over the back of her bedroom chair, driving the air out of her lungs, leaving her shocked and breathless, and aroused beyond reason.

She could almost feel the first smack coming and she braced herself, craving nothing more than for him to spank her hard and then fuck her even harder.

“I know you’d like that. Later, love, wait for it. You will get everything you deserve.”

Promises, so many promises she didn’t doubt for a second wouldn’t be delivered, but having all her pleasure under his authority, to be unleashed only when he saw fit, was excruciating.

She weighed whether to fight him, to take back the control she held so dear. But she wanted to see where he would take her, needed to sink into this sea where their desires met.

And the further he led her, the faster her will and ability to think were drifting out of her reach. 

He seemed to be in no hurry, content in caressing the curve of her ass, admiring her nakedness and describing to her how beautiful she looked bent over and served for him, his fingers occasionally swiping over her clit and dipping between her folds.

Drunk with the sensations not nearly enough to satisfy, she bit her lip not to whimper.

Under his languid strokes, her clit was throbbing like it was the center of the universe and beads of sweat were breaking on her forehead by the torturous build-up. She needed so much more than he was giving her and she needed it now, but just when she was about to voice her urgency, she felt him changing his angle.

The first two fingers he pushed inside made her moan out long and loud. After a couple of slow, deep thrusts filling her, feeling her, he added a third and then a fourth finger, stretching her long-abandoned flesh to its limits and through her rapturous gasps, she felt like crying with joy.

But he kept dosing her pleasure, bringing her close to the edge and then withdrawing, over and over again until her inner walls were pulsing and clenching around him, and her moans had turned into desperate sobs.

In a feverish haze, attempting to find a better contact to give her the release her body was screaming for, she shifted her hips, but the punishment came immediately.

Calmly, he pulled his hand away and lifted her to face him.

Her whole body objected, her bliss being wrenched away in such cold blood, and the fierce frustration erupted from her lips. A curse, a demand, an order – all pointless, ineffective with this new division of power.

His fingers were back around her throat and his disapproving stare bored into her soul.

“You move too much. And you seem to be under the impression you have something to say about what happens tonight. Let’s root out that misconception.”

Nonchalantly, he lifted her into his arms and threw her onto the bed, unable to keep from grinning at her surprised yelp.

Disoriented, her wildest heat subsiding, she took a more dignified posture and brushed her hair away from her face.

Not sure how she felt about him handling her with such casual insolence, she watched closely as he undressed, smiling at her mischievously, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

There was definitely something new in him, a side she had never seen before.

This unwavering self-confidence and raw, unabashed sexuality. His playfulness and vitality, like a young man indulging in his favorite pastime, enjoying his command without care. The boldness with which he was gradually manipulating her mind and her body into submission, bit by bit leading them closer to his desires she had yet to learn.

But he was also the same man she had come to know, reading her signals without effort, and sensing her slight confusion, he put aside the harsh play and joined her in bed.

She had always savored feeling his weight settle on top of her, being completely covered and pressed into the mattress, sheltered and dominated by his masculine strength.

And the way he managed to look at her with such affection, even in the midst of a heated scene, made her heart full.

“You forgot to say ‘yellow’, Kathryn,” he scolded her gently.

“Oh, there was no need to slow down,” she sighed and traced the lines of his tattoo with her fingers. “I was just wondering what I’m getting myself into with you, Chakotay.”

A dazzling smile spread across his features again, his cheeks dimpled and the corners of his eyes crinkled.

This time, as he blindfolded her, he didn’t ask for permission.

And after taking away her vision, he proceeded to restrain her movement, and her consciousness dropped into the familiar state of dizzying vulnerability and razor-sharp alertness.

She felt him tie her right wrist to the bed frame, the left stretched out to the opposite side.

Tight. So goddamn, deliciously tight, giving her no space to move.

Her ankles were tied in the same manner and by the time she was spread out on the bed for him, her moisture was dripping down to the sheets and she was trembling with arousal but also a new uncertainty.

Because when he was busy binding her, it dawned on her exactly what and whom she was surrendering to.

A highly trained, fine-tuned weapon. One she had personally crafted.

Over the years, he had observed her, on and off duty. He had witnessed her at her best and her worst, with attentive eyes, in silence, taking note.

During the past weeks, he had systematically sought information to complete the missing gaps and by answering his questions, she had revealed every last detail about herself.

As a result, he knew her thoroughly, better than anyone ever had. He was intelligent and creative, he had studied and learned, and discovered infinite ways to satisfy her.

But knowing her past and weaknesses, her hopes and desires, her thresholds to pain and pleasure alike, he was also lethal. He held the keys to bring her bliss – or endless torment.

And right then, bound and splayed, she was helpless and at his mercy in every way she could imagine.

She knew the word that would make him stop and tried it out in her mind.

But even if the prospect of his enhanced skills and his needs that were still a mystery to her made her stomach curl into a tight knot and her heart hammer in her chest, she couldn’t conceive of anything that would make her decide to interrupt whatever he was about to do to her.

She listened to his soft steps moving in the room and his low voice ordering something from the replicator. Then he was back and the bed shifted under his weight as he came to give her a reassuring kiss before withdrawing again.

"This is the time you start to beg," his casual voice informed her from somewhere above and she strived to estimate the direction and distance to predict what might be coming.

All senses hyper-alert, she startled violently as something soft made contact with her lips.

Instinctively, she pulled hard at the ropes to protect herself, but they only dug deeper into her skin, bringing forth a biting pain, a rush of adrenaline and, inevitably, a surge of burning lust.

Her tongue darted over her dry lips. Blood pounding in her ears and her breath coming in erratic, short gasps, she fought to control the growing agitation as the delicate touch slowly moved on her body.

Deceitfully light, innocent almost, but carrying a pledge to deliver an explosion of sensations, it trailed over her breasts and along her belly, brushing her clit and sliding down her thighs and ankles that were shaking non-stop against the restraints.

Then that soft touch vanished and she sucked in a deep breath.

As ready for him as she would ever be.

"And if you feel like it, Kathryn, you may scream."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read it this far, please, leave a comment. For everyone who already did: a million times thank you. Writing must be the loneliest hobby in the world and the only external reward is hearing what people think about the story. Give me feedback: one word or novel-length, constructive or not, positive or negative, I don't care, I can take it, I need to hear it.
> 
> And Helen, once more, thank you for seeing me through this, for putting up with my shit, and for being my friend.


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